Courfeyrac's Day
by bohemiankat
Summary: Hmmmm... A more suitable title might be "It's not Courfeyrac's Day"...


Courfeyrac  
  
One summer morning, Renaud Courfeyrac entered Le Musain with a young girl on his arm, giggling at his every comment. "Come now, mon cherie, you know I must go to this meeting." "But, monsieur Renaud." "Listen, just call me Courfeyrac. All my friends do. Here is my address. A monsieur Marius shares my room whenever he runs out of other places to live, so do not be alarmed to find him there on some occasions. I'll meet you at the Luxembourg in an hour." And with that, he left to attend a meeting of the ABC society. As usual, Enjolras presided over the gathering with his commanding air. Combeferre took notes, while Joly sneezed, Jehan Prouvaire chewed on the end of a pencil, Bossuet and Bahorel laughed (Mostly at Bossuet's expense), Grantaire drank, Marius pined for his lost love, Feuilly dreamed of Poland, and he, Renaud Courfeyrac, tried to listen to what Enjolras was talking about, even when it didn't make any sense. "Renaud? Courfeyrac? Courfeyrac, are you there?" "Huh? Oh, hi, Enjolras! What? How come everyone's looking at me?" "You fell asleep during my first speech of the day. Where is your mind today, Courfeyrac?" "Well, dear Enjolras, my mind has left me for the moment." Grantaire laughed. "For the moment? Hah!" "Just what are you implying, R?" ".Mmm, nothing. Nothing at all." He fell asleep in his chair. By now Renaud was annoyed. He was beginning to think his friends were trying his patience on purpose. He entered the gardens. Back at Le Café Musain, the students wondered what was ailing their friend for him to act so.  
  
"Maybe he's sick." "No, Joly, he seemed in perfect health. And I know what you're thinking; you're not sick, either." "Maybe someone died." Proposed Combeferre. "He would have been a lot more upset than that." "Yes, Enjolras is right. As usual." "Hey, maybe he's drunk!" "No one asked you, Grantaire." "I've got it! He's in love." This simple statement by Jehan Prouvaire silenced the room. Enjolras, as usual, already had a plan. "Jehan, you and Marius must gather information on Courfeyrac for us. Report back to me a few times a week. Feuilly, Bahorel and I will build a barricade, while Combeferre, you.. Uh, never mind. Just forget it." " So Jehan and I get to be like spies?" "Excellent analogy, Marius. I like your thinking. But, no, you are not like spies at all. You're merely observing him and telling us everything he does." Marius, of course, was young and in love and didn't find anything wrong with what Enjolras had just said. Prouvaire the poet, however, was not so easily fooled. "Sure, Enjolras. Come, Marius, let's go." They walked out the door to the Luxembourg Gardens, where they thought Courfeyrac had intended to go. They saw him sitting on a bench by the pond next to the beautiful young girl. "Hey, that's my bench! What's he think he's doing, sitting on my bench, huh?" "Shhh. Nice goin', Marius. Now he's gonna hear us!" A few yards away. "Renaud, what's that noise?" "What noise?" "The one that sounds suspiciously like two of your friends hiding behind a bush, spying on us." "Wow, you must have good ears!" "Lucky guess." "Mon cherie, I must be going now. I'll meet you out side my building at nine tomorrow. We'll have breakfast at Café Voltaire." "Okay. What are you going to eat for breakfast?" "Uh, I dunno. Bye, Claudette." "Au revoir, Renaud." "Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow." He quoted, as he dragged himself towards the direction of his home. Marius was already waiting for him. "And where have you been, young man?" "Oh, that is laughable, Marius. You of all people to preach to me when I come home late. He who lives in a house of glass can throw no stones." "Courfeyrac, you must stop quoting, really! That bit of Shakespeare, or whatever, in the garden. Honestly that was a bit unnecessary." Instantly, upon realizing what he had just said, he smacked himself upside the head. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! I am an idiot!" "Well, I'm not going to correct you there. By the way, how would you know what I quoted in the garden?. You weren't there! Or were you." Marius turned pale. "I'll be leaving, now." "Get. back. here. you little.Marius!" Courfeyrac chased the sprinting Marius out of the room and into a hall, where they collided with the old portress, Madame Cecille. She scolded them as they flew by. "Ruffians! You are disturbing the peace!" "Well, tell him to stop disturbing me when I'm talking to Claudette!" "Don't listen to him! He's trying to kill me!" "Shut up, you." "Aaaahh!" And with that, they ran some more. Marius led the way, flailing his long arms all the while. The first door he recognized around him was that of Enjolras. Although he dreaded disturbing Enjolras at home, he didn't fancy facing the wrath of Courfeyrac, either. He decided that he had nowhere better to go, and Courfeyrac was gaining on him. "Enjolras! Open the door! It's Marius, and Courfeyrac is.well.right behind me! Let me in now!" "Well, Pontmercy, what are you waiting for? Get inside!" Enjolras slammed the door behind him, nearly hitting dear old Courfeyrac in the face. Courfeyrac talked to no one in particular. Grantaire leaned out of a nearby window. "Courfeyrac, who the devil are you talking to? Come in for a drink, for Pete's sake!" He crossed the street to Grantaire's apartment. "Good to see you, Courfeyrac. Now, you seemed thoroughly engrossed in that conversation with yourself. I now need the details." Grantaire smiled slyly as he poured his friend a glass of absinthe, knowing quite well that he would talk, if he had a bit to drink. "Well, R, I am in love." "Love, you? Really? I wouldn't have suspected. What is her name" "Claudette. Claudette. I don't know her last name; it's not important, really. Anyway. I caught Marius and an accomplice spying upon us in the Luxembourg Gardens. Apparently, for reasons beyond my capacity of understanding, Enjolras is sponsoring this mission. He is now sheltering Marius in his home across the way." Grantaire stifled a laugh, and tried to look as though he knew nothing about this. "It's almost comical the way you speak so seriously. Sheltering Marius. Honestly! Although, I'll say, if someone spied upon me while I was out with someone, I'd smash his bloody face in." "We know, Grantaire. That's because you're you. But, I'm usually me, you see, but now I'm not Courfeyrac the revolutionary, I'm Courfeyrac, the fool who loves Claudette." "At any rate, you're a fool." "Silence, capital R. You're drunk, anyway. I'll forgive you just this once. Lucky I'm not Enjolras. He wouldn't give you a second chance." "Or first." "How would you know, R?" "Our mighty Apollo despises me, Courfeyrac. Haven't you noticed?" "Well. Yes, but I thought you wanted him to hate you. You do, don't you?" "Of course not. Why does everyone always assume that?" "Calm down, R." "Calm down!? Calm down.!" Mid-sentence, Grantaire fell asleep, snoring loudly. "Uh, I think I'll leave now, Grantaire." "M'kay, you do that, Monsieur who-ever-you-are." BACK AT ENJOLRAS' HOUSE..  
  
Marius went to Enjolras' kitchen cabinet to find something to eat. "Ketchup, cranberries, tomatoes.Enjolras, don't you have any food that's not red?" "Ummm, no." "Oh well." Marius took a bite out of the giant tomato. Tomato juice got all over his white shirt. "Oh, no! This is my good shirt! My other one's being washed today! What to do, what to do." He went upstairs to borrow a shirt from Enjolras' closet. The first thing he noticed, upon entering the room, was that everything was red, and if it wasn't naturally red, Enjolras painted it red. In the closet, Marius found rows upon rows of washed, neatly ironed red vests with gold trim. "Ahhhhhhhhh!"  
  
Will Grantaire ever remember who he was talking to? Will Marius ever find a clean shirt? Will Courfeyrac ever decide what he will eat for breakfast? Tune in.some other time.to find out!! 


End file.
